


Charmed 202: Dreamcatcher

by Metal_Ox137



Series: Charmed AU2 [2]
Category: Charmed (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5768983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Ox137/pseuds/Metal_Ox137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Patience has a sleep-over with her aunties Phoebe and Paige, they find themselves trapped in a world of dreams and nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed 202: Dreamcatcher

It was the first Saturday of March, just after eight in the morning, and Paige Matthews was resting comfortably on the big sectional in the living room, wrapped in a heavy comforter, idly watching the gentle rain spattering against the skylights above her. She sipped her coffee slowly, letting the heat from the mug warm her small hands. She had almost decided to go for a long soak in the bathtub, when the door to the apartment opened, and her sister Phoebe Halliwell slipped inside.  
"Good morning," Paige greeted her sister with a wicked grin.  
"Hey," Phoebe returned the greeting with an exhausted smile. She stood by the kitchen island for a long moment, feeling utterly awkward.  
"Well, are you going to put down roots there, or are you going to come over and talk to me?" Paige teased.  
"Yeah . . . I was really kind of hoping I could just sneak in without you seeing me," Phoebe confessed at last.  
"Not a chance," Paige assured her. "So?"  
"So, what?"  
"Details! I want details!"  
Phoebe surrendered with a smile, and walked wearily over to the sectional. Paige set her coffee cup on the end table, wriggled over to one side, and as Phoebe sat beside her, offered her part of the quilt. Phoebe took it gratefully, snuggled against her sister, and rested her head against Paige's shoulder. She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes.  
"Oh, no, you don't," Paige declared, giving her sister a playful shove. "No sleeping. Not until I've had all the X-rated details of your first night with your fireman."  
"I can talk with my eyes closed," Phoebe protested, her voice little more than a murmur.  
"Until you start snoring," Paige retorted. "So?"  
"I like him," Phoebe allowed, giggling slightly.  
"I figured that part out," Paige snorted. "So, where did you guys go?"  
"We - didn't," Phoebe confessed, after a long hesitation.  
"What do you mean, you didn't?"  
"I went over to Kai's, and - we just never ended up going anywhere."  
"Oh, my God, Pheeble," Paige started laughing.  
"Hey, I had a premonition, okay?" Phoebe replied, a little defensively. "I just knew we were going to spend the night together - and - we did."  
"What, you just went over to a strange man's house, and started ripping his clothes off?"  
"NO!" Phoebe protested vehemently, but then she relented. "Well, yeah," she admitted. "I guess I kind of did that."  
"Oh, Prue has got to hear about this," Paige declared. "This is too good to keep."  
Paige started shifting her weight, as if she meant to get up off the couch. Phoebe's eyes opened wide with alarm, and she draped her free arm across Paige's waist, trying to hold her fast. "No, Paige, no!"  
Paige started giggling at Phoebe's reaction. "Hey, our big sister is always feeling the shame because she has sex on a first date. Wait until she learns, she's the queen of restraint, compared to you!"  
Paige kept struggling playfully, and it was all Phoebe could do to hold onto her.  
"Paige, please," Phoebe begged, "Don't say anything to Prue. At least, don't say anything yet."  
Paige relented, still laughing, and settled back down into the cushions.  
"Seriously, Pheeble, what on earth must he think of you?" she asked. "You don't even know this guy - you just barely met him!"  
"Give me some credit," Phoebe protested, a little hurt. "My premonition showed me, Kai's trustworthy. It's just - we were both really lonely - "  
"And horny," Paige snorted.  
"Hey, you were the one telling me, I'd been celibate way too long," Phoebe pointed out.  
"Yeah, but I guess I was kind of expecting you'd at least let him buy you a drink first."  
"Well, next time, we'll go out on a proper date," Phoebe declared. "I guess I hadn't realized how much I needed to just - be with someone."  
Paige sighed, and wrapped her arms around her sister. "Pheeble, what on earth am I going to do with you?" she declared. "I'm the baby sister. You're supposed to setting the example for ME."  
"Do you think I'm setting a bad example?" Phoebe asked, genuinely hurt.  
"No," Paige answered, hugging her sister tightly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."  
She reinforced the declaration with an even tighter hug. "And if you've found someone, and he makes you happy, then I couldn't be more pleased."  
"I just see what you have with Henry, and what Prue has with Darryl, and I do feel a little jealous," Phoebe confessed.  
"Well, I hope Kai turns out to be your forever sweetheart," Paige giggled. "But you guys should do yourselves a favor and actually go on a date next time."  
"How long had you been dating Henry, before you guys had sex?" Phoebe asked, genuinely curious.  
"Well, damn, you're making me feel like I should join a convent," Paige teased gently. "Henry and I had been going out for two whole months before I finally took him home with me. It was our sixth - no, our seventh date." She grinned at Phoebe. "It's a wonder he didn't dump me."  
"Oh, I don't think there was any danger of that. I've seen how he looks at you." Phoebe swallowed a large yawn, then reluctantly stood up. "Okay, I really need to go crash now."  
"What? You didn't go to bed last night?" Paige needled.  
"Oh, I've been to bed," Phoebe answered with an exhausted smile. "I just haven't been sleeping."  
"Are you planning to be around tonight?" Paige asked.  
"Yeah, as far as I know I am, why?"  
"Our niece is spending the night."  
"Really!" Phoebe seemed delighted at the idea.  
"Her first sleepover," Paige said proudly. "I'm going to pick her up around lunchtime."  
"Did Prue ask you to do that?"  
"No, I volunteered." Paige's expression turned unexpectedly solemn. "I'm worried about Prue," she confided. "She really hasn't been herself since she vanquished Demon Phoebe. She says she's all right, but - she's not. She's putting on a brave face for us, but I think that really tore her up inside, a lot more than she's letting on."  
Phoebe sat back down beside her sister and nodded her solemn agreement. "I think you're right."  
"Anyway, I thought maybe it would help if she and Darryl could have a date night. Just the two of them. Let them have some quality time together, and not have to worry about the kid. And they'll come over and join us for family brunch on Sunday."  
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Paige. And that's really sweet of you to offer."  
"Anyway, if you're not planning to go another ten rounds with your new boyfriend, I thought maybe you might like to enjoy an afternoon of crayons, picture books, grilled cheese sandwiches and apple juice," Paige grinned. "Assuming you can stay awake, of course."  
"Sounds perfect," Phoebe declared. "You're a good auntie, Paige."  
"Yeah, yeah. Go get some shuteye, Auntie Pheeble."

A few hours later, Paige orbed directly from the great room of her apartment to the front door of Prue's apartment. Realizing how much control she now had over her new power, the sensation left her feeling distinctly giddy.  
"Now, THAT is awesome," she grinned to herself, knocking at the door before letting herself in.  
Four year old Patience Trudeau, seeing her auntie enter, launched herself at Paige with all the force of a runaway bottle rocket. Paige caught Patience in her arms and swept her up, much to the child's glee.  
"Hey, sweetheart," she gave Patience a wet kiss on the side of her cheek. "Are you ready to spend the night with your Auntie Paige and Auntie Phoebe?"  
"Yeah!" Patience declared, hugging Paige tightly.  
Prudence Trudeau came out the kitchen, grinning broadly at the sight of her daughter and sister together.  
"Hello, Paige," she greeted her warmly.  
"Hey, Prue," Paige gave her older sister a quick peck on the cheek. "I've come to steal your precious darling for the evening."  
"Oh, dear, how horrible," Prue said with mock dismay.  
"And the ransom for her safe return is, you and Darryl have to join Phoebe and Patience and me at our place for early dinner tomorrow. Say, two o'clock?"  
"Well, when you make me an offer like that, how can I refuse?"  
Paige looked her sister with undisguised worry. Prue still had dark circles ringing her eyes and she looked distinctly haggard.  
"You're sure you're okay?" she asked with concern.  
"I've felt better," Prue admitted. "But I really do appreciate you babysitting tonight."  
"So, do you and Darryl have any big plans?"  
"Actually, we're thinking we might just stay home and cuddle," Prue smiled. "Be as lazy as we can possibly be."  
"Maybe that's not such a bad idea." Paige turned her attention to her niece. "So, are you all packed and ready to go?" she asked Patience.  
"I need Theo," Patience announced.  
"Theo?" Paige frowned, not understanding.  
"Theo Door," Patience declared, as if explaining something obvious.  
"Her stuffed bear," Prue explained. "It's gone with her everywhere since she was two."  
"Oh, well then, we'd better find him, hadn't we?" Paige declared, setting Patience down, and the child scurried away.  
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Paige asked Prue.  
Prue smiled gratefully. "You're already doing the best thing for me," she declared. "Giving me a night off. I feel like I could use one."  
"If there's anything you need, you know all you have to do is ask, right?"  
"I promise I will," Prue answered.  
"Okay." Paige gave Prue a quick hug. "Any bedtime rules for our precious cargo?"  
"Just brushing her teeth before bed," Prue grinned. "If you can manage to throw her into the tub, that would be great."  
"Does she have a set bedtime?"  
"No bedtime you need to observe, she'll pretty much go down by herself around 8:30 or so. But you already know the storytime rule." Prue smiled radiantly. "That's one rule that must be strictly enforced."  
"We've got it covered," Paige grinned.  
Patience returned with her stuffed bear in tow.  
"Okay, I'm ready," she announced.  
Paige gave Prue one last hug. "Take care of yourself, okay?" she murmured.  
Prue grinned. "Darryl's already promised to wait on me hand and foot all night," she declared.  
"Good." Paige picked up Patience's overnight bag and was shocked at its weight. She looked down at her niece.  
"What did you pack in here, a pile of bricks?"  
"Books, Auntie Paige!"  
"More like a whole library!" Paige grunted, and Prue burst out laughing.  
"Okay, give your mommy a hug, it's time to go."  
Patience clutched tightly to her mother, and Prue sighed deeply, feeling a mild separation anxiety. Her dusky voice dropped almost a full octave as she murmured farewell to her daughter.  
"Have fun, sweetie. And behave, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."  
"Okay, mommy," Patience answered, still applying a tight cobra squeeze. "I love you, bye-bye."  
"I love you, bye-bye," Prue answered.  
Paige picked up the overnight bag, and Patience her bear; they clasped their free hands as they headed down the hallway. As they rounded the corner, out of sight of Prue's apartment door, Paige grinned at her niece.  
"Wanna see a magic trick?" she whispered conspiratorially.  
"Yeah!"  
"Okay, hold on tight to my hand."  
The child applied a surprisingly strong vice-like grip. Paige closed her eyes, and bright white lights began to circle them both. Patience's peals of laughter faded from the hallway as the two of them orbed away.

* * *

It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon before Phoebe stirred. Wearily, she rolled over in bed, facing her nightstand. Sometime during the day, Paige had left a small pitcher of water with a lemon wedge and a glass by her bedside.  
Smiling gratefully at the gesture, Phoebe sat up slowly, poured herself a glass and drank it down in a few gulps. She was wide awake, but feeling utterly, happily drained. She could hear voices out in the great room. Shrugging herself into a t-shirt and sweat pants, she tiptoed to her bedroom door and peeked out.  
Paige and Patience were laying on the floor of the great room, with the coffee table pulled away from the sectional. They had laid out a comforter on the floor to lay on, and each was busy drawing with a large sketchpad, sharing a box of crayons between them.  
"We're gonna need a big house for all my cousins," Patience was telling her auntie with all the authority that only a four-year-old can command.  
"Ooh, sweetie, that might take a while," Paige remarked absently, carefully detailing her own drawing. "I'm not even married yet. Neither is your Auntie Phoebe."  
"Well, you need to hurry up," Patience declared, and she exhaled a world-weary sigh. "It's so hard, being born first."  
Paige did her best to suppress a smile. "I guess it must be tough," she agreed. "Your mommy was first-born, too. Did you know that? I'm the baby. I was born last. Fourth out of four girls."  
"Auntie Phoebe is gonna have four babies. One boy, and three girls."  
"Really. Is she now?"  
"And you're gonna have twins."  
Paige looked up from her drawing. "I am?"  
"Sure you are."  
"Boys or girls?"  
"Girls," Patience declared in exasperation.  
Paige couldn't keep herself from grimacing. "Ooh, sweetheart, I wouldn't get your hopes up about that," she said mildly, thinking of her bad back.  
"Oh, don't worry, Auntie Paige. Your babies know your back hurts, and they'll be extra careful, because they love you so much."  
Paige was so astounded at the comment that she dropped her crayon. Phoebe came up to them, and she exchanged a glance with her sister.  
"Did you hear that?" Paige asked.  
"I heard," Phoebe nodded. She knelt down beside her niece and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Four kids, huh?"  
"They're my cousins," Patience explained matter-of-factly. "And they are waiting for you."  
"Well . . . we'll try not to keep them waiting too long," Phoebe bit her own tongue, glancing at her niece's sheet of paper. "What's this you're drawing?"  
"We need a new house," Patience said simply. "When all my cousins get here, we need a place to play."  
"Mighty big house."  
"Yeah."  
Paige looked at Phoebe. "You don't think - "  
"Precognitive?" Phoebe finished the unspoken question for her. "It's possible. It's certainly a gift that runs in the family."  
"But - not - twins?!" Paige couldn't help grimacing in dismay.  
Phoebe grinned. "She's four, Paige."  
"Yeah, so?"  
Phoebe couldn't help laughing. "I think we can let the future take care of itself," she declared. She got up to see what Paige was working on. The drawing seemed rather elaborate.  
"What's this?" Phoebe asked.  
Paige made a face. "It's a Dreamcatcher," she explained. "I used to make them out of Popsicle sticks, turkey feathers and colored yarn. Today I'm just drawing one."  
"What's a Dreamcatcher?"  
"It's supposed to be a magical web that repels nightmares. You're supposed to hang it over the headboard of your bed for best results. The feathers are supposed to allow the good dreams to slide down into your body while you sleep."  
Phoebe looked admiringly at the artwork, which showed a considerable level of skill. "Wow. Paige. This is really something," she murmured appreciatively.  
"I'm just doodling," Paige demurred.  
"It's incredible," Phoebe insisted. "Seriously, Paige. I've seen mandalas with less detail."  
"I used to draw a lot when I was a kid," Paige said, almost sheepishly. "I was never really any good at it. It was just something fun to do."  
"Well, at the risk of getting punched, you're selling yourself short. I think it looks amazing," Phoebe declared, and then she frowned. "What time is it?"  
"A little past two, I think," Paige answered. "I was thinking of putting some fish sticks in the oven in a few minutes. We kinda missed lunch."  
"Is there time enough for me to take a shower?" Phoebe asked hopefully.  
"Sure," Paige grinned. "I promise we won't eat 'em all before you're done."  
A short time later, after an impromptu lunch of fish sticks, tartar sauce, apple wedges and fruit juice, Patience tugged at Paige's hand.  
"Come on, Auntie Paige, it's nap time," she declared.  
Phoebe hid another yawn. "Sounds like a great idea to me."  
"That's what you get for staying up all night," Paige smirked.  
"Can we use the sofa bed?" Patience asked.  
"Sure, sweetie, if that's what you'd like," Paige answered. "It's time we gave it a proper test drive."  
She walked over to the sectional, pulled off the seat cushions and set them to one side. Then she tugged gently on the cloth strap, and the springs of the sofa bed popped up and out. Paige made a face.  
"Ooh. I guess we should have picked up the papers and crayons first," she sighed, realizing the art supplies were now under the bed. "Oh, well, they'll still be there tomorrow, right?"  
She quickly put fresh sheets on the mattress, and Phoebe brought a heavy quilt out of her room to share.  
"You're going to join us?" Paige asked, grinning at her sister.  
"Sure, why not?"  
Phoebe settled down on the mattress, taking one of the pillows, and was almost instantly asleep. Patience seemed bewildered by Phoebe's exhaustion.  
"She's fine, sweetheart. She was just up all night," Paige assured her niece. "Do you want to hear a story first?"  
"Yeah!"  
"Which one?"  
"Owl and the Pussycat!"  
"Can't go wrong with the classics," Paige agreed solemnly, kicking off her shoes and clambering into the bed.  
Patience brought her picture book and snuggled next to her auntie in great contentment. Paige pulled the covers up halfway, leaving her arms free for reading, and Patience was already asleep before the story was finished. Smiling, Paige set the book to one side, and settled down next to her niece, pulling the covers up to their shoulders. She closed her eyes and after only a few moments drifted off.  
Underneath the sofa bed, the lines of Paige's drawing began to glow a dull ochre-red, spitting out tendrils of acrid smoke. The paper did not catch fire, but the drawing began to emit its own eerie light, slowly getting brighter and brighter . . . 

Paige was dancing. She didn't know where she was, and didn't especially care. She just suddenly knew that her back was no longer injured, she no longer felt any pain, and she was writhing and bending and twisting, overcome with a fierce joy. Her body gleamed with a sheen of sweat, but even this didn't bother her. All she knew was freedom of movement, freedom from pain, and she was reveling in it. She thought she heard music, a gritty, bluesy, loping melody salaciously blown from a tenor saxophone, but as she tried to listen to it, the music slowly faded away.

Paige opened her eyes, and found herself staring at her own reflection in a dressing room mirror. She was too startled in take in her immediate surroundings, but she stared at her face - still her own, but subtly altered - her complexion was paler, a set of thick false eyelashes now clung to her eyelids and her long dark hair was lighter, more a deep, dark red, and teased and tousled into a mass of "bed hair". A single tear was trickling down one cheek.  
"What the fuck -?" she gaped at her own reflection in the harsh lights surrounding the mirror.  
A tall, lean man dressed in a dark dress shirt, jeans and cowboy boots walked up to her, but he seemed preoccupied with counting a roll of dollar bills he held in his hands.  
"Cherry Darlin', how many fuckin' times I gotta tell ya, ya gotta stop all that cryin' and shit up thar on the stage," he drawled disapprovingly.  
"Sorry, what?" Paige asked.  
"Do you know what a go-go dance is? It's a happy dance. Y'all get up thar, and dance happy. It's go-go, not - cry-cry."  
For the first time, Paige glanced down and saw that she was barely dressed in what appeared to be a diaphanous tube top, hot pants with fringes, and shin-high leather boots with gold zippers. She got up from her seat at the makeup table as if she'd been stung.  
"Oh Jesus Christ, I'm naked," she cried with dismay.  
The lean man stared at her in puzzlement. "That's more'n what you usually wear onstage," he objected.  
Paige wrapped one arm across her chest, and the other dropped down just past her waist, trying desperately to cover herself.  
"Do you MIND?" she hissed.  
The man looked at Paige dumbly, and finally frowned in concern.  
"Cherry, you feelin' all right?" he asked.  
"What did you just call me?"  
"Cherry. Cherry Darlin'. That's your name."  
"The hell it is!"  
"Hey," the man raised his hands in a gesture of pacification. "Y'all want to change your stage name again, that's fine by me. Ah got no issue. You're the one told me y'all wanted to use that name in the first place."  
"Where am I?" Paige demanded. "And who the hell are you?"  
The man put the roll of bills in his shirt pocket, deciding it was obviously time to give his distraught dancer his full attention.  
"Mebbe ah ought'n call your boyfriend, an' he can come pick you up," he said, with obvious and sincere concern. "I thought lettin' you work double shifts this week was a bad idea."  
"My boyfriend? You mean Henry?"  
"Y'all been seein' somebody new? I thought you and that Wray fella was gone get hitched, or sumthin'."  
"Who?"  
At this point the man looked positively worried. "Look. Y'all obviously not feelin' right. Why don't you jes' set yourself down, and I'll ask one of the girls to take you home. Okay?"  
For the first time, Paige took stock of her surroundings; she was at the far end of a large dressing room, and several girls in various stages of undress were attending to their makeup or carefully securing strategically-placed costumes. The two girls nearest her table were staring up at her in concern.  
"Oh, my God, this is a strip club," Paige groaned with dismay. "And I'm supposed to be - what? A stripper?"  
"You're a go-go dancer," the man replied with some heat. "Thar's a difference."  
An attractive young black girl sidled up to the man, looking at Paige with open concern on her face.  
"Skip, it's okay, I'll take Cherry home," she offered.  
"Thanks, Lynda," Skip sighed with relief. He turned back to Paige. "Cherry, now, y'all go on home and rest. And you get yourself right, before you come back here. Y'understand me?"  
There was more concern than anger in his voice. "Get yourself right," he repeated, "And you'll always have work here." He stalked away, making for the nearest exit.  
"C'mon, sweetie, let's get you out of here," the girl called Lynda cooed soothingly. She reached over and pulled a heavy leather jacket off the back of the chair and handed it to Paige.  
"This is mine?" Paige asked numbly.  
"Well . . ." Lynda grinned. "It was Wray's, until you stole it from him."  
"So I'm a stripper and a thief," Paige muttered to herself. "This is a nightmare."  
She stopped for a moment, mentally tumbling over the word.  
"Sweetie?" Lynda frowned in puzzlement.  
Paige groaned inwardly. "Nightmare. Of course it is. I'm dreaming all this." She looked around her and shuddered. "I really need to start having better quality of dreams."  
Lynda tugged at Paige's hand, almost like a child would. "Sweetie, let's get you home," she pleaded.  
"Yeah. Yeah," Paige agreed, distracted, as she shrugged herself into the jacket. "Take me home - at least until I can figure out how to wake the hell up."

* * *

Phoebe Halliwell stirred slightly, eyes closed. Something had awoken her from a deep and heavy sleep. It was a sensation of touch: a pair of small hands were gently but insistently caressing her.  
Phoebe breathed in deeply, slowly fighting her way to consciousness. The caresses paused for a moment, then continued, and Phoebe suddenly realized that as pleasurable as the sensation was, the touch was rather . . . intimate. Her eyelids flew open, and with a soft grunt, she sat up.  
An attractive young woman with dark auburn hair smiled at her.  
"Well. You're awake at last," she murmured, kissing Phoebe lightly on the lips. "That was some nap you were taking. You were dead to the world."  
"Where - where am I?" Phoebe asked numbly, still not entirely awake.  
The young woman laughed. "You're so silly, Charlotte."  
"Charlotte?"  
"You're in my apartment. Remember?"  
Phoebe was suddenly aware that she was stark naked . . .as was the attractive young woman snuggling up to her.  
"Oh, my God," she murmured.  
The young woman laughed again, a lilting, carnal laugh. "I thought that last glass of wine was probably too much," she said huskily, her lips almost brushing Phoebe's cheek. "Let me get you some water, while your brain sorts itself out."  
The young woman gave Phoebe a quick peck on the cheek, then slipped from the bed and padded away into another room.  
Desperately, Phoebe looked all around her, but also started scanning magically to determine her whereabouts. Her scrying powers seemed to be out of focus somehow; she could sense nothing beyond the immediate room. She was limited to what she could see - a small, cluttered and dimly lit bedroom, with a rather impressive array of cameras and tripods festooned in one corner and atop a battered old dresser. A backpack on the floor bore the name "Sarah Campbell". Phoebe hoped that provided a clue to the identity of her unknown bedmate. She had a sinking feeling that casting about for names wouldn't go over well.  
The young woman returned with a small pitcher of water and two glasses. She set the pitcher on the nightstand, poured a glass for Phoebe, and handed it to her. Phoebe took the glass gratefully.  
"Thanks."  
Much to Phoebe's relief, the young woman shrugged herself into an oversize t-shirt. She went over to the dresser and picked up one of the cameras.  
"I had a feeling once we got you past your inhibitions, you'd be amazing," she remarked, and Phoebe had the distinct impression the comment held more than one meaning. She bit her tongue and waited. The young woman looked up from the camera and smiled knowingly at her. "You want to see?"  
Phoebe must have seemed bewildered, so the woman added, "Your pictures, Charlotte. You DO remember taking the pictures, right?"  
"I - I must have had more wine than I thought," Phoebe managed to blurt out.  
Grinning, the young woman clambered onto the bed, and adjusted the camera menu to display playback. The camera was a digital variety. Phoebe frowned at the sight of it. In the world in which she now lived, such devices were unknown. Did that mean, then, she had somehow been transported back to her home reality?  
The young woman handed Phoebe the camera.  
"Take a look for yourself," she said, and then poured herself a glass of water.  
Phoebe set her water glass down, and took the camera, trying to ignore for the moment the fact she was wearing no clothing whatever. The camera showed some signs of hard or careless use, and on the side, the name "Sarah Campbell" had been scratched into the finish. If nothing else, Phoebe was now reasonably sure of the name of her companion.  
Then she noticed the photograph in the display.  
The picture was of Phoebe, stark naked, in a decidedly salacious pose. Phoebe swallowed hard and felt her heart skip a beat. No, two beats.  
"That's . . . me?" she asked, her voice strangled.  
"Press the little button on the side to advance the frames," Sarah suggested.  
Not entirely sure she wanted to, Phoebe advanced to the next photograph. Her eyes went wide as she viewed the image. She advanced the photo set one more time . . . and then decided she didn't need to see any more. She set the camera down and closed her eyes.  
"Oh, my God," she murmured again.  
Sarah laughed delightedly. "Amazing, aren't they? You just came alive - like you'd never lived before. Better than I dreamed - and I have some pretty naughty dreams."  
Almost in shock, Phoebe more or less fell backwards from her sitting position, collapsing onto her pillow.  
"I don't remember that at all," she confessed.  
Sarah frowned. "Really? None of it?" Her brow and lips puckered in bemusement. "Well . . . no more weed and wine for you, I guess. Not at the same time, anyway."  
"I'm going to be all over the Internet by morning," Phoebe sighed disconsolately.  
Sarah frowned again, this time in true puzzlement. "Internet? What's that?"  
It was now Phoebe's turn to frown. The camera was digital, something that could only have come from her home reality, but Sarah clearly had no idea what the "Internet" was. Something was definitely not right.  
"Curiouser and curiouser," Phoebe murmured to herself.  
"You're not going to ask me to delete them all?" Sarah asked suddenly, clearly dismayed.  
Phoebe somehow managed to come up with a faint smile. "No," she assured her. "I can see it means a lot to you."  
"I'm serious, Charlotte, these are memories for a lifetime," Sarah pleaded. "I confess, I was hoping I could get you to come home with me yesterday after the shoot, but I never expected - well, everything that happened," she said awkwardly. "But - I don't regret a thing. And you shouldn't, either."  
"I have to remember it first," Phoebe smiled ruefully.  
"Wow, baby, I guess we really overdid it," Sarah said contritely, stroking Phoebe's cheek with her hand. "I promise, next time, just one glass of wine only."  
"That might be best," Phoebe agreed, and suddenly her body seemed to wake, and she was overcome with an absolute need. "Uhh - which way is - "  
Sarah grinned. She jerked a thumb in the direction of the bedroom door. "Out that door, hang a left, second door on the right."  
"Thanks." Phoebe all but leaped out of the bed, seeking the relative safety of the bathroom. 

* * *

Lynda was profusely apologizing to Paige. "Cherry, I'm so sorry, I knew I shoulda had this dang ol' car checked out last week," she bleated, as live steam roiled up from under the hood, almost obscuring the road ahead as they drove.  
"Uhh, don't you think we should pull over?" Paige suggested.  
Lynda smiled faintly. "J.T.'s Bone Shack is just past the overpass," she answered. "We can stop there for help."  
Paige frowned. "Bone Shack?"  
"Best barbecue in Texas."  
"Well, let's stop before we turn into a car-B-cue."  
Lynda pulled the car off the road onto a gravel drive, and all but coasted to set of gas pumps under an awning. There was sickening grind of metal on metal, and the motor abruptly died. Paige grimaced.  
"Ouch," she muttered. "That's one engine block ready to be melted down for scrap."  
Lynda sighed disconsolately and pulled the key from the ignition. "Now what I am gonna do?" she lamented. "No way I can afford car repairs this month."  
"I think you're gonna need more than just a repair," Paige offered reluctantly.  
Lynda popped the latch for the hood, and they both got out of the car. Clouds of steam rose into the night sky from the dead engine.  
An angry male voice called out from the top of the hill.  
"Git that thang away from my pump!"  
"It's just overheating," Lynda pleaded, as the man came hurrying down the wooden steps mounted into the side of the steep hill.  
"It's not overheating," Paige declared. "It's died and gone to heaven."  
J.T. Hague, dressed in t-shirt, jeans, baseball cap and long apron, spattered head to toe with grease and barbecue sauce, regarded the ladies in distress before him, and his expression softened with genuine sympathy.  
"That car's not goin' anywhere tonight," he sighed. "I can see that from here. Why don't you ladies go on up, have a seat anywhere. I'll push this junker off onto the gravel for ya."  
"I need to get Cherry home," Lynda protested. "She ain't feelin' well."  
"Good thing she has a boyfriend with a tow truck, then, ain't it?"  
Paige looked at him blankly. "I do?"  
J.T. held out his hand to Lynda, and she frowned, not understanding.  
"Keys," J.T. said tersely.  
"But - she won't start," Lynda protested.  
"Hell, I know that. Just want to shift 'er into neutral before I start pushing."  
"Can we use your phone?"  
"Whatever you need, ladies. Mi casa es su casa."  
Lynda sighed with relief and handed him the keys. "Thanks, J.T. You're a lifesaver." She turned to Paige. "C'mon, Cherry, let's get up the hill," she said. "Even if you broke up with Wray . . . I think he'll give you a ride."  
Paige and Lynda began to climb the steep steps up to the restaurant. J.T. opened the driver's side door, put the gear in neutral, and then leaned his full weight against the open door. Slowly, the car rolled away from the gas pumps, and J.T. tapped the brakes as the car tires scrunched onto flat gravel a safe distance away. As he got out of the car, he noticed two figures standing just beyond the pool of light from the awning.  
"We're servin' inside tonight," he called out to them. "Can I interest y'all in a plate of soon-to-be award-winnin' barbecue?"  
Neither figure answered, or even moved. They seemed to have frozen at the sound of his voice. J.T. squinted but could not make out the faces, just out of sight in the darkness. His face settled into a knowing grin.  
"Y'all from Dickey's, ain'tcha?" he demanded. "Well, you tell that sonuvabitch if he thinks he's gittin' his hands on my recipe, I got a double-barreled answer for his query right inside."  
The figures slowly moved forward into the light, and J.T.'s expression immediately changed to one of abject shock and horror.  
"Jesus Christ and His angels preserve me," he moaned. Then he turned and bolted up the steps, as fast as his legs could carry him.  
Paige and Lynda had just settled themselves into a booth when J.T. barged into the restaurant. Not breaking stride, he disappeared into the back, and returned a few moments later with a large shotgun in his hands.  
"J.T., what the hell?" Lynda asked, alarmed.  
"Lynda, grab the phone, call my brother," J.T. ordered, not looking up as he loaded shells into his gun.  
"What's going on?" Paige asked.  
"Call the sheriff!" J.T. barked in reply.  
Paige and Lynda exchanged a baffled look. The door swung open violently, and a figure entered the restaurant. It might have at one time been a man - it was clothed in jeans and a checkered flannel shirt - but its head and hands were barely human, or what a human might look like, rendered in melted wax. Paige only caught the briefest glimpse of the face, but it was bloated, discolored, and oozing with putrefaction. She felt a sudden need to retch.  
J.T. raised the gun, and fired point-blank into the creature's midsection. It didn't move, and barely even shuddered from the impact of a close range shotgun blast. A huge hole appeared in the creature's torso, just below the sternum.  
Paige clapped her hands over her ears, her eardrums now fiercely ringing from the sound of the gunshot.  
"Lynda, Cherry, gitcher asses OUT of here! NOW!" J.T. bellowed, then fired again. The second shot had no more affect than the first - apart from splattering partially coagulated blood and steaming entrails all over the back side of the front door. The creature cocked its head slightly, looking at J.T. as if surprised, then shrugged with an almost human gesture, and promptly vomited the contents of its stomach - along with the stomach itself - onto the restaurant floor. The stench was overpowering, and Paige felt her own stomach take a nasty lurch. She clapped a hand over her nose and mouth.  
"GIT!" J.T. shouted at the women. "Head out back! Take my car!"  
Lynda grabbed Paige's hand, and all but pulled her out of her seat. "C'mon, Cherry, we're gone," she declared, dragging Paige with her.  
They barreled through the swinging service doors leading into the kitchen, only to be met another shambling mound, with infected pus draining freely from the multiple lesions on its face. It reached out for the women menacingly.  
Paige had time to scream. 

* * * 

Phoebe hid in the bathroom for several long minutes after she'd taken care of her body's immediate needs. Hanging onto the sink rim for dear life, she scryed desperately, but still could not detect anything. Her disorientation was gone, but what took its place was a deep and growing fear. Once before, she had been magically scooped up and spirited away - and this experience was beginning to have all the hallmarks of another such event, something she was desperate to avoid again at all costs.  
"Where am I?" Phoebe asked her reflection in the mirror. "And what do I do now?"  
Drawing in a deep breath to calm herself, Phoebe took stock of her situation. _Nothing gets resolved by hiding,_ she reminded herself sternly. _Take this one step at a time. First, find yourself some damn clothes. Next, find out where and when you are. Even if that means asking awkward questions._  
She stepped out of the bathroom, and listened carefully for any sound. The apartment seemed perfectly still around her. Returning to the bedroom, she peeked carefully around the door. The room was empty - for the moment. Sighing with relief, Phoebe hurried inside and found a jumble of carelessly discarded clothing close to her side of the bed. Hoping the clothes were hers, Phoebe began to dress hastily in a t-shirt, pale red jumper, jeans and battered old tennis shoes - something a college student might wear. The clothing was a good enough fit. "Mine now," Phoebe murmured to herself.  
She wondered if it might not be best to bolt from the apartment before Sarah returned. She could always offer the pretext she was going out for some air. And perhaps outside the building, she could attempt to scry again.  
Tying up the laces on the tennis shoes, Phoebe padded to the door and peeked out. Again, all was perfectly quiet and still. But which way was out? Deciding to try the opposite direction from the bathroom, Phoebe tip-toed down the short hallway, and to her immense relief, found a foyer and a door around the corner. Opening the door as quietly as she could, Phoebe stepped outside.  
It was bitterly, numbingly cold out; barely above freezing, if that, and dark as night. The cold was so intense that Phoebe began to wonder if she might not be better off braving this little misadventure from the safety of a warm bed. She turned around to reach for the door handle - and the door was no longer there. Neither was the apartment.  
Bewildered, Phoebe made a quick circle, pivoting on the toes of one foot, looking all around her. She was standing on a windswept balcony of what appeared to be some sort of municipal building - but the wall that faced her had neither doors or windows, just a blank, expressionless slab of concrete. The balcony and its parapet were dimly lit by a single overhead light fixture several feet above her. In the darkness beyond, she could neither see nor sense anything.  
The cold was seeping into her bones, even after this brief exposure. Badly frightened now, Phoebe began to sprint along the length of the balcony, looking for any exit where she could duck in and take shelter.  
There did not seem to be any way off the balcony, but she found a recessed alcove which provided some shelter from the biting wind. She huddled in the darkness, shivering, noticing her breath as it steamed from her lips in the cold. If she was being subjected to teleportation, there was no visible portal. Or perhaps she was under some sort of spell? Phoebe rubbed her arms furiously, trying to stay warm. It was far more important at this moment to find shelter. Worrying about how she'd arrived here could wait.  
She was about to make another dash out into the night, in a panicked hope of finding a way off the balcony, when a male figure appeared at the very edge of the darkness. Phoebe could not see his face, but he was formally dressed in a tuxedo. As he came into the light, Phoebe could see that his skin was extremely pale, but he was rather handsome and he smiled warmly at her. Seeing her shiver, he quickly removed his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shaking shoulders.  
"Th-thanks," Phoebe said through chattering teeth.  
"You've lost your ankh," the man spoke in a soft, low voice. "Again."  
"Ankh?" Phoebe frowned in puzzlement. "But - my sister Paige has the ankh necklace."  
It seemed an impossibly silly thing to say, the sort of thing that would be uttered in a dream. A suspicion began to tug at Phoebe's consciousness.  
"Am I dreaming?" Phoebe asked.  
Again, the man smiled. "No. I'm real enough."  
He pulled her close, but Phoebe felt a thrill of dread as she realized his body had no warmth at all - he was every bit as cold and lifeless as the stone wall behind her. Suddenly, the man held her at arms' length, staring into her face, frowning.  
"You are - defiled," he said, with something approaching dismay. "You are no longer pure."  
Phoebe couldn't help snorting with laughter, no matter how rude such a response might seem.  
"Oh, buddy, have you got a lot to learn about me," she chortled.  
The grip on her arms turned vice-like and Phoebe cried out in pain. "Hey," she objected. "That hurts!"  
"Foolish child, you speak to me of pain?" the man growled. "You have condemned me to another season of eternal sleep, when you could have made me whole!"  
The man parted his lips in an angry snarl, baring a set of fangs. Phoebe yelped in both surprise and fear, and tried to twist away, but the man - the vampire - held her fast. Unable to free herself, Phoebe brought her knee up hard between the man's legs. He grunted more in surprise than in pain - but he released his hold. Phoebe spun away and began to run as fast as her legs could carry her.  
"That settles it," Phoebe muttered aloud to herself as she ran. "I am definitely starting those self-defense classes again!"  
She had barely reached the opposite length of the balcony when the vampire caught up to her, grabbing her wrist. Phoebe cried out in pain, but he held her fast.  
"At least I will end you before I sleep," he snarled.  
"Yeah, keep dreaming, blood-breath," Phoebe retorted, swinging the sharp edge of her elbow of her free arm into the vampire's nose. Again, Phoebe's assailant was more startled than hurt, but she was free again, and that was all that mattered. She landed a well-placed kick, with all her weight behind it, just below the vampire's midsection - and actually knocked him to the ground. This time, he felt the blow, and bellowed with rage and pain.  
"Witch!" he snarled.  
"Yes," Phoebe answered proudly. "I am!"  
Before the vampire could get to his feet, Phoebe landed another solid kick, this time alongside his jaw - and sent him sprawling again.  
Their fight was interrupted by the piercing scream of a small child - and Phoebe instantly knew that the cry of terror had come from her niece, and while everything around her might be a dream, the scream was only too real.  
"Sorry, I can't finish this dance," Phoebe panted. "I have someplace better to be right now."  
Phoebe drew herself up, folded her arms across her chest, closed her eyes and reached out with her scrying ability. No wonder she could sense nothing before, if what she was experiencing was simply a dream. But if Patience was really nearby, she could sense her. And that would be enough to lead Phoebe right to her. After only a moment, she became aware of the child's presence, and the girl was sobbing with fright.  
"Hang on, sweetie, your Auntie Phoebe's coming," she murmured, and then willed herself to her niece's side.  
She opened her eyes again, and found herself in broad daylight - and apparently in the city park nearest her apartment. She was standing in the sandbox, across from the swings - and Patience was huddled only a few steps away. The vampire, the balcony, the night - all were gone.  
"Not as good as orbing, but it'll do," Phoebe said to herself with satisfaction, and quickly gathered her niece into her arms. And again, Phoebe was certain that no matter what else around her might be fiction, the child was real.  
"It's okay, sweetie, I'm here, your auntie's here," she murmured. Patience, still crying, clutched tightly to Phoebe, burying her face in Phoebe's breast.  
"What is it, sweetie? What scared you?"  
Mutely, Patience pointed - and as Phoebe looked up, she groaned in dismay. Several large teddy bears, now swollen in size until they were almost eight feet tall, were advancing on them from all directions, lumbering on plush feet with their claws and teeth bared.  
"Seriously?" Phoebe snorted derisively. "Attack of the crazed killer teddy bears? That's just mean!" She nuzzled the weeping child in her arms. "Don't you worry, sweetie," she whispered. "Your Auntie Phoebe has got this."  
She addressed the advancing animals. "All right, you overstuffed plushies!" She yelled. "You want to start something? Fine! Who wants some? Come on! Step right up! Who's ready to get their fluffy asses shredded by a Charmed One? A really pissed off Charmed One!"  
One of the bears lumbered forward, growling menacingly. With an angry wave of her free hand, Phoebe cast a quick spell - and the teddy bear exploded into a rapidly shrinking pile of cotton balls.  
"Who's next?" Phoebe demanded angrily.  
The other teddy bears stopped their advance, apparently startled. They looked at Phoebe, then at one another, then finally lowered their massive arms, turned their backs and began to amble away.  
"That's right, you'd better run!" Phoebe yelled after them. "Never mess with an angry witch!"  
She turned her attention back to her crying niece.  
"There, there, sweetie," she murmured. "It's over now. The bad teddy bears are gone."  
Patience's sobs quieted and she snuggled tightly to Phoebe. She gave her niece a reassuring kiss.  
"So, we're asleep, huh?" Phoebe asked.  
"Yeah," Patience answered, her face still half-buried in Phoebe's breast.  
"So if we're dreaming, I guess that means that Auntie Paige is dreaming too?"  
"I wanna wake up," Patience said forlornly.  
"Yeah, so do I, sweetie," Phoebe agreed. "But I'm going to scry first, just to make sure your Auntie Paige isn't nearby. If she's here, we'll go get her before we go home, okay?"  
"Okay."  
"Hold tight to me."  
Phoebe closed her eyes, and as before, began to reach out with her magical senses, searching for her lost sister. After a few moments, she detected Paige's presence - as well as a sense of the danger she was facing.  
"Oh," Phoebe murmured, opening her eyes. "Oh, my."  
She wrapped her free arm around her niece to hold her more securely. "Okay, sweetie, we're gonna go get your Auntie Paige. Just close your eyes, okay? Here we go!"  
A few moments later, Phoebe opened her eyes again, and acrid smoke filled her nostrils. Gagging, she raised a hand to her mouth, in a desperate attempt to filter the worst of the smoke before it entered her lungs.  
She was in the kitchen area of a restaurant, and while she saw no fire, both the roiling smoke and the oppressive heat assured her one was nearby.  
"Right into a burning building," Phoebe muttered. "Terrific."  
The doors from the dining area burst open, and Paige, along with two other people, hurried inside. Paige was carrying an assault rifle in her arms that was almost bigger than she was. She saw her sister and niece, and hurried over to them. She hugged Phoebe tightly.  
"Pheeble. Thank God," she sighed.  
"Paige, what on earth are you carrying?" Phoebe asked, shocked.  
"I don't know," Paige admitted, looking askance at the weapon. "We just needed guns, and I found this in my hands."  
"That's just weird."  
"You want to know what's really weird?" Paige confided. "I have a feeling I should be wearing this."  
Phoebe frowned. "What, like a prosthesis? Have it hanging off your arm like the Terminator, or something?"  
"Something like that."  
Phoebe looked askance at Paige's attire.  
"Pheeble, you say one word about the clothes I'm not wearing, and I swear I'll break your nose," Paige grumbled.  
"I'll say this for you, baby sister. You sure do have some interesting dreams."  
"I don't dream up stuff like this," Paige retorted hotly. She glanced behind her, where Lynda and J.T. were hurriedly nailing two-by-fours across the doors as a temporary barricade.  
"So, we are asleep, then? And we're sharing a dream?"  
"Apparently," Phoebe said, still bewildered by the surroundings. "Uhh, why, exactly, are we barricading ourselves inside a burning building?"  
"Because what's outside is even worse."  
"And that would be - "  
"A twisted remake of the 'Night of the Living Dead'. I guess."  
"Terrific. So, can't we just wake up now?"  
"I've been trying ever since I got here," Paige groaned. "I'm not hanging out inside this zombie flick just for grins, you know."  
"I could try slapping you," Phoebe offered, only half jokingly.  
"Can't we, I don't know, just spell our way out of here?" Paige asked despairingly.  
"We're asleep, Paige," Phoebe said evenly. "Let's not go flying off the handle."  
"Yeah, but this isn't your ordinary run of the mill nightmare," Paige insisted.  
"What, you mean, there's something magical about this?"  
"Yes! No. Oh, I don't know," Paige sighed. "But even though it's lurchy like a dream, it's different somehow."  
"Lurchy?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "Is that even a word?"  
"Yeah, you know, you just kind of lurch from one place to another? The way you do when you dream?"  
"Well, we could try lurching somewhere else," Phoebe mulled that over. "This does seem to be an active dream. We could try directing the outcome."  
"I'd rather just wake up," Paige said bluntly.  
"Yeah, I think you're right," Phoebe agreed. "So, how can we lurch ourselves back to reality?" She hugged her niece, still gathered in her arms. "And make sure Patience wakes up with us?"  
"Look OUT!" J.T. yelled, falling away from the doors as the two-by-fours holding them cracked in half. "They're a-comin' THROUGH!"  
The doors swung open, and a throng of mutilated, animate corpses shambled forward, moaning senselessly. Patience screamed. The restaurant phone, its receiver shaped like a hot dog in a bun, began to jangle insistently.  
"That phone - " Phoebe started to say . . .

Phoebe sat up in bed, her heart pounding in her chest. She was back in her apartment, in the sofa bed with Patience and Paige, who were struggling to wake, blinking their sleep-swollen eyes. The phone over by the kitchen island was ringing loudly. Phoebe staggered from the bed, her limbs barely responsive after her heavy sleep, and picked up the receiver.  
"H-hello?"  
"Hey, Phoebe." Kai's voice came over the wire.  
"Kai!" Phoebe began wiping the sleep from her eyes. "What time is it?"  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah, sure, why wouldn't I be?"  
There was a pause. "This is gonna sound so stupid," he admitted. "I just - I don't know, I had a funny feeling you were screaming my name. Like you were in trouble or something."  
Phoebe almost laughed. "No, it's not stupid," she assured him. "And I'm really glad you called."  
"Is everything all right?"  
"It is now."  
While Phoebe and Kai talked, Paige pushed herself upright in bed. The ugly, painful twinge in her back reminded her - depressingly - that she was back in reality. She smoothed back her niece's tousled hair.  
"You okay, kiddo?" she whispered.  
"What WAS that, Auntie Paige?"  
"I don't know, sweetheart, I really don't," Paige admitted.  
Patience sat up, her face contorted into a scowl of deep concentration - then she threw back the quilt, and bounded out of the bed.  
Bemused, Paige watched as Patience disappeared under the bed, then emerged a few moments later, holding Paige's drawing carefully by one corner between her thumb and forefinger. The outlines of the drawing were still glowing an angry red, and a few faint wisps of smoke curled up from the image. Paige's eyes went wide at the sight.  
"My dreamcatcher?" she said in bewilderment.  
From the kitchen island, Phoebe also saw the burning illustration. "Kai - let me call you right back," she pleaded, and hung up. She rejoined her sister and niece at the bedside.  
"Wait - your dreamcatcher was causing all this?" she demanded.  
Paige shrugged helplessly. "I never had one come to life before," Paige protested.  
"Yeah, well, maybe that's because you never made one while you were an active witch, living inside a magical nexus."  
"You mean - these things really WORK? They're not just decorations?"  
Patience picked up a wad of eraser gum from the floor, clambered back into the bed, slapped the gum on the wall just above the headboard, and fastened the dreamcatcher with it.  
"Auntie Paige, you have to hang them up, over the bed," she explained. "Then it keeps the bad dreams out. If you leave them on the floor, they go bad."  
"Oh." Paige said in a small voice. "I didn't know that."  
Patience sighed. "Auntie Paige . . . everybody knows that."  
As they watched, the glow from the dreamcatcher began to alter from angry red to a deep, healing cobalt blue. The last tendrils of smoke vanished.  
"Now the dreams will be good," Patience assured her aunties. Phoebe and Paige looked at each other, deeply bemused. 

* * *

It was later in the evening, and after a late supper, Paige, Phoebe and Patience once again got into the sofa bed together. After a reading of "Harold and the Purple Crayon", which Paige found to be an unnervingly relevant reading choice, Patience drifted off to sleep between her two aunties, utterly content.  
Paige put the picture book to one side, and smoothed back her niece's hair. She grinned at Phoebe.  
"Out like a light," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  
Phoebe smiled back. "She really is an angel, isn't she?"  
"Guess Henry and I will have to work on getting her some cousins after all," Paige nodded soberly. She almost laughed aloud at Phoebe's worried expression. "Not yet, not yet," she added with a stifled giggle.  
"You first," Phoebe retorted.  
"No way. You're older. You first," Paige shot back, then she grinned again. "Are you off to see Kai tonight?"  
"Nope," Phoebe declared.  
"No?"  
"After I called him back, I asked if we could go out on a proper date - tomorrow night."  
"How very adult of you."  
"Don't start, Paige," Phoebe growled, but she couldn't help smiling. She looked up at the dreamcatcher, still glowing faintly with a azure blue light.  
"Looks like we have a new night light," she commented.  
"I swear, Pheeble, I had no idea that thing would come to life and start taking us over," Paige protested.  
"I don't know," Phoebe said thoughtfully. "The dreamcatcher can only catch what's there. What we experienced was something out of our own subconscious."  
"What did you dream about?" Paige asked, curious.  
"I was about to become breakfast for a vampire."  
"Yikes."  
"Just before becoming a porn star."  
"That's what you dreamed about?" Paige was genuinely surprised.  
Phoebe shrugged. "The subconscious is where a lot of things get worked out, Paige. It doesn't mean it carries over into the waking world." She grinned mischievously. "And besides - it seems to me like you were having a - similar experience?"  
Paige smiled sadly. "In my dream, I was a dancer," she confided. "In a nightclub. But it wasn't really about teasing the men and enjoying it. It was - " she paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I could move," she said finally. "I didn't have to worry about feeling any pain, or not being able to move at all. I could twist and turn and leap about and basically make a pretzel out of my spine - and it felt . . . wonderful. I was free. And in real life? On a good day, I can walk across a room."  
Paige sighed disconsolately, and Phoebe reached over and gave her sister's hand a gentle squeeze.  
"Do you have any idea, how much I love you?" she whispered.  
"Almost half as much as I love you," Paige said, squeezing Phoebe's hand in return. "But - you can love me twice as much - in your dreams."  
Phoebe managed to cover her laugh, so as not to wake her niece.  
"Okay, then," Phoebe agreed. "Let's get some sleep."  
"You don't have to sleep out here with us in the sofa bed," Paige objected. "I'm sure your own bed's gotta be more comfortable."  
"There's no place I'd rather be, than right here, with my sister and my niece," Phoebe declared softly. "In a bed filled with stuffed animals and picture books." She smiled ruefully, and Paige giggled.  
Phoebe reached over, and put out the light. After a few moments, the room was bathed in pale moonlight, spilling in from the skylight above. Phoebe smiled at Paige in the semi-darkness.  
"Go to sleep, baby sister," she whispered tenderly. "Sweet dreams."  
They lay down, putting their heads on their pillows, and Patience, still asleep, rolled onto her side, burrowing next to Paige's breast for comfort. Paige and Phoebe lay side by side, facing each other, hands still clasped, making a protective bracelet over their niece. Sleep came to them quickly as the stars wheeled lazily overhead. 

* * * 

In Prue Trudeau's modest apartment, Prue was sitting up on the edge of her bed, head hung low, almost doubled over, trying desperately not to retch.  
"Darryl, I'm so sorry," she said mournfully.  
"No need to apologize, Prue," Darryl answered, busy putting on his clothes. "When you're sick, you're sick. We'll take you over to urgent care and get this sorted."  
"I wanted tonight to be something special for you."  
"Baby, every night I'm with you is something special for me. And I signed up for this, remember? In sickness and in health. Let's get the sick part taken care of, so we can get you back to the healthy, happy part as soon as we can, okay?"  
Prue looked up and managed to give her fiancé a queasy smile.  
"I love you," she murmured.  
"Do you need help getting dressed?"  
Prue shook her head weakly. "No. But - I think I have to go throw up first."  
Gingerly, she stood up. Darryl came to her side, but she held up a hand. "I can manage," she assured him. Darryl watched her go, eyes clouded with worry.  
Prue staggered into the bathroom on shaking legs, and barely managed to raise the toilet lid before she began to retch violently. She felt as though red-hot knives were being thrust into her abdomen. She collapsed to her knees, bending over the toilet bowl. After a few moments, the spasming stopped, and Prue opened her eyes. The toilet bowl was filled with blood. As Prue watched in horror, the blood began to circulate in rings around the bowl, clotting together to form the shapes of hissing, spitting lizards and snakes.  
"Oh, my God," Prue shuddered.  
She tried to get to her feet, but her limbs seemed to have lost all their strength; she half-fell, half-slid down the side of the bathroom wall, the room spinning all around her.  
"Darryl," she tried to call out, but her cry strangled in her throat. "Help - !"  
Then darkness overtook her, the tiled floor rushed up to meet her face, and Prue knew nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> A grateful tip of the hat is offered here to the one and only Robert Rodriguez, as a few lines from his Grindhouse film "Planet Terror" have been pinched for use in this story. A few readers may have noticed that in this Charmed series, Paige has more than a few "Cherry Darling" traits right from the outset, but this is the first time the film gets an actual explicit mention. Thank you kind sir, and I'm still waiting for the "Sharkboy and Lavagirl" sequel.
> 
> The other film reference in this story, of course, is to "Embrace of the Vampire", the version starring Alyssa Milano. No dialogue was pinched from that film; it's been many years since I last saw it, and despite the fact I was watching the "unrated" version, my only clear memory was of falling asleep about halfway through. :P


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